Seeing as it's been far too long since I posted last, I thought I'd update everyone briefly on my life.
Julie and I celebrated 11 months together on Wednesday, June 20, and I can't tell you how blessed I am to have her in my life. I am so excited to see her again, but I know she's having a blast in Germany this summer, and I know the time will fly by.
Work has been busy and exciting. I worked on the page this afternoon and early evening, posting stories, updating old ones and updating photo captions. We had breaking news about an apparent double homicide, so I was getting things ready for that story.
I've gradually been meeting the interns and staffers, and I'm learning more names every day (I'm just hoping I can retain some of them!).
More to come....
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Along 8 Mile
Just a note to say I've made it to Detroit! I've officially driven down 8 Mile (if you've ever visited Denver, think Colfax Avenue, only with a whole lot of restaurants boasting Coney dogs and cuisine. Dad and I ate at a Lebanese restaurant tonight, large portions of food and very flavorful, highly recommended. Tomorrow, we're planning to attend church services in Royal Oak, as I recall, and then I'll move in sometime on Sunday afternoon. In case I haven't made a plug yet, you should definitely check out the Web site of the Detroit Free Press at Freep.com. That's where I'll be working. Sweet!
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Ain't it something? I'm in Kentucky!
With all due respect to myself, making a reference to the South by using the word "ain't" probably isn't completely fair. To be honest, my experience here has been good so far. I've met a lot of great people from across the country who are incredibly talented. We've been taking grammar, ethics and libel quizzes in the morning, following them up with beat reports that we must present in both print and verbal formats and listening to lectures about the state of online media. We've been eating primarily in Western Kentucky's cafeteria (may I recommend the toasted subs?), and then returning in the afternoon and into the evening for more presentations, and to work on the projects we are developing. We've been split into three groups. There are 10 of us. I'm in the group of four, and there are two groups with three people. My group will be taking a look at a public relations/advertising firm run out of the school and staffed by students who work for businesses locally, in Nashville and, perhaps in the future, in other countries.
I had forgotten about lightning bugs until I was riding in a car with some of my peers on Sunday night and saw one light up outside the window. It's too great to comprehend, but unless you're from a mountainous region as I am, you probably don't appreciate fully the beauty of the lightning bug. I'm assuming Colorado doesn't have them because of its elevation, but feel free to correct me if there is another, more scientific explanation. For all I know, they're magical beings filled with the glowing rays of the sun. More likely than not, they're simply phosphorescent.
On Wednesday, we're scheduled to have a fancy dinner with Rich Holden, of the Dow Jones Newspaper Fund, at a swank local restaurant. Dimmed lights. White table cloths. Oh, yeah. We're going out on the town.
I had forgotten about lightning bugs until I was riding in a car with some of my peers on Sunday night and saw one light up outside the window. It's too great to comprehend, but unless you're from a mountainous region as I am, you probably don't appreciate fully the beauty of the lightning bug. I'm assuming Colorado doesn't have them because of its elevation, but feel free to correct me if there is another, more scientific explanation. For all I know, they're magical beings filled with the glowing rays of the sun. More likely than not, they're simply phosphorescent.
On Wednesday, we're scheduled to have a fancy dinner with Rich Holden, of the Dow Jones Newspaper Fund, at a swank local restaurant. Dimmed lights. White table cloths. Oh, yeah. We're going out on the town.
Friday, June 8, 2007
48 and under
There is only so much one can do when one has only two days to prepare for the adventure of a lifetime:
First: One must bust out an iron and ironing board, six crumpled shirts and a sweet set of tunes blasting from a Boulder radio station. The shirts must be ironed, hung and, later, folded. The shirts must be piled with the other shirts and pants and shorts and books and papers and cameras and computers and pillows and shoved methodically into the following: two (2) suitcases, one (1) backpack and, finally, a rectangular (1) laptop case. The latter two will be carried onto the plane; the former two will be checked in to meet said one (me) in Nashville. I may not have been everywhere, man, but Johnny Cash would be proud of the spitfire, it's-now-or-never approach I take when collecting my goods for the trip across the country.
Second: One must panic about money. How much does one have? How much does one need? How much will one be making? To what extent will one be indebted to dozens of kind family and friends putting up with one by graciously providing travel funds, housing and the like?
Third: Realizing that money cannot buy happiness (though it comes in very handy), one ceases worrying about it, appreciates the kindnesses and says thank you.
Fourth: Again, panic. This time, about whether one has remembered everything one should have packed. Have all stones been overturned? If not, why not? Overturn them immediately!
Fifth: Relief. And anxiety. How will everything go? Will one be successful, or fail miserably? One hasn't studied enough. One has studied sufficiently. One will learn. One should have learned more before going. One will be fine.
Sixth: (Breathe)
Seventh: One packs the car and drives to the airport. It is early in the morning, but not too much so. It should be enough to see the sun make its slow ascent toward its zenith in the sky.
Eighth: One checks into the airport and flies away to Kentucky, where the grass really is greener on the other side. It's probably green on the side where one is standing, too.
The adventure begins.
First: One must bust out an iron and ironing board, six crumpled shirts and a sweet set of tunes blasting from a Boulder radio station. The shirts must be ironed, hung and, later, folded. The shirts must be piled with the other shirts and pants and shorts and books and papers and cameras and computers and pillows and shoved methodically into the following: two (2) suitcases, one (1) backpack and, finally, a rectangular (1) laptop case. The latter two will be carried onto the plane; the former two will be checked in to meet said one (me) in Nashville. I may not have been everywhere, man, but Johnny Cash would be proud of the spitfire, it's-now-or-never approach I take when collecting my goods for the trip across the country.
Second: One must panic about money. How much does one have? How much does one need? How much will one be making? To what extent will one be indebted to dozens of kind family and friends putting up with one by graciously providing travel funds, housing and the like?
Third: Realizing that money cannot buy happiness (though it comes in very handy), one ceases worrying about it, appreciates the kindnesses and says thank you.
Fourth: Again, panic. This time, about whether one has remembered everything one should have packed. Have all stones been overturned? If not, why not? Overturn them immediately!
Fifth: Relief. And anxiety. How will everything go? Will one be successful, or fail miserably? One hasn't studied enough. One has studied sufficiently. One will learn. One should have learned more before going. One will be fine.
Sixth: (Breathe)
Seventh: One packs the car and drives to the airport. It is early in the morning, but not too much so. It should be enough to see the sun make its slow ascent toward its zenith in the sky.
Eighth: One checks into the airport and flies away to Kentucky, where the grass really is greener on the other side. It's probably green on the side where one is standing, too.
The adventure begins.
Friday, June 1, 2007
Strait ahead: Motown
In just over a week, I'll be leaving for Bowling Green, Ky., to begin training for my online editing internship at the Detroit Free Press. I'm seriously getting excited, because the fact that I will be working for one of the largest metropolitan communities in the country has, for a long time, been a big aspect of my career aspirations.
People have tried to scare me, albeit unintentionally. They've highlighted outlandish crime statistics. They've offered a negative experience, or at least an experience that's sufficiently unsettling, the kind that makes you say, "I think I'll lock my doors this evening," or, "Let's not go outside tonight. It's too risky." I've been asked on multiple occasions if I've purchased a gun.
I haven't. I'm not "packing heat." That dire verbology has been repeated to me so often it's scary.
Most recently, I've been reading a book called "The Gift of Fear." My dad, who works part-time at Borders, happened upon the book and suggested I read it. He said he didn't want to frighten me. He just wants me to be aware of my surroundings, and have some tips for fighting back in case something bad goes down.
Surprisingly, it's a fascinating read. If you're going to be a crime reporter, it's got the goods on what you shouldn't waste your time covering. If you're ill at ease in your surroundings, it's got tips on how to prevent someone from befriending you and then throwing bad stuff your way.
I don't think I'll have to use any of the techniques mentioned, but you can bet I'll have my eyes open. I'm prepared to walk the streets of Detroit with confidence, and with a mind for where I'm going.
Detroit appears to be incredibly diverse, and that's exciting. It's a dream internship come to life, and I know I'll be busy at work, and busy in my time off exploring the city and its surroundings. I have friends who live nearby, and professors who either grew up in the area or will be moving there this summer to, I hope, spend some time with.
I've started gathering all of my maps and informational guides into a pile. City streets are a prominent feature of many of them (I'll be living due north of 8 Mile, which also doubled as the title of a fairly recent movie starring rapper Eminem). Others boast local parks. I've got a guide to Michigan's freedom of information laws, which fascinate me but would likely bore others to tears. I've got the goods on the best places to eat, sleep, walk, drive, visit, gawk at, ad infinitum.
Now, it's just a matter of figuring out where to go first, and how to jam it all into roughly two months of work time.
Frankly, I'm anxious to get the lowdown on Motown.
People have tried to scare me, albeit unintentionally. They've highlighted outlandish crime statistics. They've offered a negative experience, or at least an experience that's sufficiently unsettling, the kind that makes you say, "I think I'll lock my doors this evening," or, "Let's not go outside tonight. It's too risky." I've been asked on multiple occasions if I've purchased a gun.
I haven't. I'm not "packing heat." That dire verbology has been repeated to me so often it's scary.
Most recently, I've been reading a book called "The Gift of Fear." My dad, who works part-time at Borders, happened upon the book and suggested I read it. He said he didn't want to frighten me. He just wants me to be aware of my surroundings, and have some tips for fighting back in case something bad goes down.
Surprisingly, it's a fascinating read. If you're going to be a crime reporter, it's got the goods on what you shouldn't waste your time covering. If you're ill at ease in your surroundings, it's got tips on how to prevent someone from befriending you and then throwing bad stuff your way.
I don't think I'll have to use any of the techniques mentioned, but you can bet I'll have my eyes open. I'm prepared to walk the streets of Detroit with confidence, and with a mind for where I'm going.
Detroit appears to be incredibly diverse, and that's exciting. It's a dream internship come to life, and I know I'll be busy at work, and busy in my time off exploring the city and its surroundings. I have friends who live nearby, and professors who either grew up in the area or will be moving there this summer to, I hope, spend some time with.
I've started gathering all of my maps and informational guides into a pile. City streets are a prominent feature of many of them (I'll be living due north of 8 Mile, which also doubled as the title of a fairly recent movie starring rapper Eminem). Others boast local parks. I've got a guide to Michigan's freedom of information laws, which fascinate me but would likely bore others to tears. I've got the goods on the best places to eat, sleep, walk, drive, visit, gawk at, ad infinitum.
Now, it's just a matter of figuring out where to go first, and how to jam it all into roughly two months of work time.
Frankly, I'm anxious to get the lowdown on Motown.
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